Twisted
by Zenith Aquilla
Summary: Harold Saxon is Prime Minister, currently working on his mission of world destruction. But when two children get in his way, he'll have to take the necessary precautions to successfully complete his goal. The world is oblivious, and all it has to save it are the Doctor, Martha Jones, Captain Jack Harkness, and a fourteen year old girl.


Harold Saxon stood loftily above the crowds, eyeing the masses below. Field trips, tourists, and enthusiasts all swarmed below him. Lucy Saxon lay draped over his arm, blonde bun pulled tightly over her head. Her gaze flit curiously over his body seconds before he pulled away. She pouted, but didn't try to regain her roost. Completely oblivious to her efforts, a flash of amusement encompassed the prime ministers face. His eyes followed a boy, no older that fifteen. He silently trekked across the edges of the clearing, sneaking away from his school group. Harold smirked to himself, turning on his heel. Flinging open the doors to his office he sat haughtily at his desk. He was having a visitor.

The boy narrowed his eyes, slipping through the thick crowds. Stockily built with light blue eyes and short copper hair, he had a mission. He radiated the shrewd, genuine, confidence of a man with an agenda. Though he did shine with certain slyness, his eyes were innocent and pure. He had one destination in mind. The office of Harold Saxon.

A sharp knock echoed through Harold Saxon's office. He raised an eyebrow in Lucy's direction, who had hidden herself in the adjacent room. She grinned, silently closing the door.

"Come in," Harold Saxon announced in an overly enthusiastic, mocking tone.

The door opened hesitantly. A familiarly copper haired boy stepped in.

"And to what do I owe this honor," Harold grandly smirked, spreading his arms widely.

"I know everything," the boy stammered, "You aren't you you've said you are. You've lied. There was never a Harold Saxon at Cambridge. Everything's been forged. The only real proof of your existence was from eighteen months ago," after his tirade he let out a heavy breath, as if relieved to let it out.

"What's your name boy?"

"Christopher. Christopher Koleson."

"I could use bright, bold boys like you Christopher," he leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Did you hear me? I said I know everything!"

"Well you see," Harold Saxon tilted his head, "You're absolutely right."

Christopher stepped back, wary and confused. A small smile played on Harold's lips as he suddenly snapped his fingers. Metallic orbs appeared from out of nowhere, swirling around the Prime Minister's head.

"Can you hear it Christopher Koleson?"

"Hear what?" he nervously backed towards the door.

"The drumming."

Blades popped out from the orbs, swirling towards Christopher. His sweaty grip fumbled across the doorknob, but to his horror it was locked.

"Why did you come here Christopher?" the tilt of his head increased.

"I- I- was going to offer a partnership. In exchange for my keeping quiet," he was completely honest in the face of death.

"Believe it or not," he was completely calm, "I've done some research on you as well."

Christopher pressed his back against the door.

"Decent grades. Arts, no sports. And, not surprisingly, an insatiable nose for trouble."

"I've had my eye on you, Chris. Can I call you Chris? Anyway- ever since we tracked back your little- _research_, I knew you were the one," he grinned broadly.

"Y- You knew?" Christopher stammered.

"Of course," he blew it off, "I'll accept your- your _offer_- on a single condition."

"An- and what's that?"

"Ooh, cute. So _brave_. You go to Kelmscott Secondary School," it wasn't a question, "A- blemish- has appeared in my plans. Her name is Sara Billson. Know her?"

"Sort of. She's quiet," Chris was bolder seeing the orbs had backed off a bit, "What do you want me to do?"

"Kill her," he shrugged.

"What!? You can't possibly expect me to-"

The master raised one eyebrow, immediately forcing the orbs to advance, "Well, I suppose it's between you and her. Choose. Now."

"Why?"

"I don't expect you to understand any of this, but I have stared into the time vortex. I have seen, quite literally, everything. This- this _Sara Billson_, is supposed to ruin everything. Fortunately she's not a fixed point, so…" he waved his arm, "Choose."

"Why can't you do it?"

"You really think it'd look good?" he shook his head, "Today's headline: British government kidnaps local girl- never heard from again!"

"I- it's just-," the orbs pressed uncomfortably close, "Fine.

"Now get out of my office."

"Excuse me?" Christopher scrunched his eyebrows.

"GET OUT!" he roared.

Christopher turned hastily, the door now unlocked. He scampered through the halls, quickly reuniting with his class. Sara walked among them, completely oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place. Her thoughts were in distant moons, swirling through whatever suited her at the moment. She turned a corner, and surprisingly enough found a boy staring back. She had never had too much time for boys, far too absorbed in her own fantasies.

_Maybe he fancies me_, she though absently, though not paying much attention. He had lowered his gaze very quickly when she caught him. He couldn't look her in the eye.

Christopher had been staring at the girl, the girl he was expected to take her life. He was fourteen! He couldn't _kill_ someone, much less a little girl! While his inner turmoil raged, the girl caught his glance. He immediately looked away. It was far too painful to look her in the eye.

The Master sat at his desk, inordinately pleased with himself. He had 'killed two birds with one stone' so to say. In truth, as he gazed into the time vortex, there was another face he had seen. The face of Christopher Koleson. Now Christopher would do away with the girl, and afterwards he could be taken on account of the murder he committed. It was brilliant, especially in to the Master mind. Though he had no qualms with it, killing children was hardly what he had expected to do as Prime Minister. It was necessary though. Necessary for the plan, but most importantly, necessary for Harold Saxon.

"I don't understand it!" the Doctor angrily hit his keyboard.

"What's wrong?" Martha stepped forward, as always ready to help.

"He's placed random files in his history, to throw us off. It's infuriating!" He hit the keyboard again, as if it was purely at fault, "I can't tell the real from the made up!"

"Like what?" Captain Jack Harkness straightened.

"Like look at this," the Doctor gestured, "School records of a 'Christopher Koleson'. Little things like that, stuck in at random."

"So what _are_ the school records of Christopher Koleson?" Jack joined them.

"It isn't important," he quickly left the page, moving on to the next.

"Why don't we go see him? It's a start," Martha shrugged.

"Fine," the Doctor slammed the computer closed, "What have we got to lose," he sarcastically replied.

"Just, y'know, humanity," Jack rolled his eyes.

"So, to," he paused, checking the computer, "Kelmscott Secondary School."


End file.
